Sold to Moretti Mafia

Elena

“You were at my mother’s funeral.” I simply state.

“Yes.”

His voice is deep and smooth, not matching the rest of him. Everything else about him seems rough and jagged. His jaw sharp, his cheekbones angular, and his lips pressed firmly into a tight line. He’s handsome in a devilish way, he could even be a model I’m sure. I can tell that he’s older than me as he has this air of maturity about him, but I’m not sure how old since he has no fine lines around his eyes, only a permanent scowl between them.

I wonder if this man has smiled a day in his life.

“Elena.” My father draws my attention back to him. “I need you to sign right here.”

He pushes a piece of paper across the mahogany desk and passes me a pen.

“What is this?” I look down at the document but can’t make out any of the words.

“Just sign it,” my father orders, his tone harsh. Cruelty isn’t something my father has ever shown me, and I can see he’s struggling even right now with how to act. He’s never been a great father, but that’s because of his absence and overbearing nature, not because he is unkind to me. Whatever this is about is weighing heavily on him.

Dragging the paper closer to myself, I grip the pen between my clammy fingers and start to sign my name at the bottom. The room is silent, and I can hear the pen gliding across the paper. I’m not even halfway through signing my name when my hand freezes. My eyes dart from the document before me and up to my father, then back again.

That can’t be right.

With the ink pen hovering over the paper, I reread the first few lines of the document.

Ownership Contract

This agreement confirms that as of today, Elena Romero will belong fully and without further stipulation to Julian Moretti in exchange for ten million dollars…

“What is this?” I question with fervor, dropping the pen as I pull back from the desk.

A knife twists in my chest, the edge digging deeper with every breath I take.

This can’t be what I think it is.

“Don’t question me. Just sign the damn document,” my father growls, slamming his fist down on the desk, and for the first time, he looks up at me. The coldness that reflects back at me makes me shiver. I’ve never seen him like this, and I don’t understand why he’s selling me to this man. Julian Moretti.

“I…” My bottom lip trembles and I bite it to stop it. “You can’t do this… You can’t sell me. I’m not signing this.” Tears blur my eyes at the betrayal that consumes me. I want to scream, to fight this with all my might, but I feel helpless. There isn’t a single person in this room that will help me.

The words have barely passed my lips when Moretti leans over and grabs my hand, engulfing his much larger one with my small one. Heat encompasses my hand, and it’s like being burned by fire. I try to pull away, but he only tightens his grip as he forces the pen between my fingers and my hand back to the paper.

“Please… don’t do this. You don’t want me.” I try and tug my hand away with all my might, my hand throbbing as he tightens his grip.

“But I do, Elena.” He speaks into the shell of my ear.

With bruising force, he presses the pen to the paper and guides my hand, forcing me to write the rest of my name. A sob breaks free from my lips, and big fat tears of weakness fall from my eyes. The man who now owns me smiles like the devil and releases my hand with ease, placing it down against the paper.

“Father… please?” I pull my hand from the document and press it to my chest.

“The contract is complete,” my father says on a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “She is now yours, do with her as you please.”

That statement has me blinking back tears.

“Please, don’t do this,” I whimper, looking up at my father, pleading with him.

How could he just sign me away to someone I don’t even know? Sell me for money? It’s like I don’t even know him. Like he’s not my father at all.

“It’s business, sweetie, don’t take it personal.” He shrugs and looks away from me, giving Moretti a get out of here gesture.

My mouth pops open, and I’m shocked, completely shocked. Where is my loving, caring father? The man who taught me how to ride a bike, the man who used to read me stories at bedtime, who held me when my mother died? He wasn’t always the perfect father, but I never expected him to do this.

“You can’t do this!” I hiss pushing up from my chair while slamming my fists down on his desk, but it does nothing but cause my hand to throb with pain.

He doesn’t see me, doesn’t care.

“Don’t worry, Romero. I’ll take good care of her… I mean… I’ll break her in gently,” Julian says darkly to my father. It’s like looking at a shark and expecting it not to bite you. The only difference is this man isn’t just going to bite me, he’s going to devour me, slowly, piece by piece.

Julian stands, smoothing his hands down his suit. My heart skips a beat, and my eyes dart over my shoulder. I want to bolt for the door, but know I won’t make it. Before I can devise an escape plan, his strong arm is circling my waist. He tugs me back against his hard chest and guides me toward the door.

I whimper like a wounded animal knowing the worst is yet to come. I’ve been sold to the devil, my body, mind, and life bound by an unbreakable contract.